


A Different Path

by grayscay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anti-Sokovia Accords, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Civil War Team Captain America, Hurt, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Not Tony Stark Friendly, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayscay/pseuds/grayscay
Summary: The fight in Siberia turns out very differently.How long will it take the other Avengers to realize that Tony is the one to blame?
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I lost motivation trying to write Chp 2 of Sins of the Savior so here's another impulsive fic! It'll probably have a few chapters. 
> 
> Again, not Tony friendly.

Snow.

Why was it always the cold?

Steve had been accustomed to the cold growing up, but he'd always despised it. The cold screwed with his lungs, made him cough and splutter. It was always hard to breathe in the cold. Just like it was now. 

He'd been thrown back, out of the abandoned HYDRA facility, onto the cold, frozen group outside. He was dimly aware of the feeling of pain in his chest and head, but there was only one thing that mattered now. 

Bucky. 

He couldn't let Tony kill him, couldn't let either of them get hurt. Taking in a creaky breathe, he tried to lift himself up, only to be hit by a wave of nausea and pain. Dimly aware of the state he was in, Steve touched the back of his head, and his hand came away wet with blood. Damn. 

Slowly rolling himself over, he staggered upwards, and heard the sounds of clanging and banging, as Bucky tried to keep Iron Man as occupied as he could. Get up, get up, get up, he thought to himself. His body shuddered with the effort, but he eventually managed to claw himself up and it the fight.

Bucky wasn't doing so hot. There were bruises lining his face, and his movements were slow and sluggish. Steve could hear his heartbeat thumping wildly in his chest, from the combined fear of another fight and the panic at being trapped in the HYDRA facility again. 

"Tony-" Steve began to plead, but Tony cut him off with a blow to the gut. Steve collapsed to the ground again, coughing up blood. He couldn't take much more of this. Trying to fight a man wearing a suit that knew all his weaknesses and exactly how to hurt him, while simultaneously trying to protect Bucky? It was too much, even for someone with his skill set. 

There was a cry of pain from Bucky, and the smell of burnt, sizzling flesh filled the air. Bucky fell down next to Steve, his mouth open and gasping like a fish out of water. Steve didn't understand what was wrong, until his eye caught on the gaping hole that used to be Buck's right arm.

It was gone.

His entire human arm was just gone. Tony's repulsor must have seared it right off.

This made Steve uncharacteristically angry. It wasn't Bucky who killed Howard and Maria, it was HYDRA. Bucky had pulled the trigger, but it had all been HYDRA's doing. Tony needed to understand that, or they would never be able to find peace.

Steve used to stone wall on his left to steady himself as he rose up. 

"This isn't gonna change what happened." Steve said in a hoarse voice, readying himself to fight Tony hand-to-hand if it came to that. 

The Iron Man suit stared back, unblinking and uncaring. 

"I don't care." The metal man said, "He's still responsible. And he needs to suffer." He readied his repulsor at Bucky's head. Sighing to himself, Steve barreled into Tony, throwing the man off balance. There was a loud clanging sound as they both went down, and Steve heard Tony let out a curse. The soldier struggled to keep Tony down, trying to steady his weight onto the less powerful parts of the suit.

"GO! RUN!" He yelled at Bucky, but his friend didn't respond, still gasping and struggling in pain. Steve would have to drag Bucky out of here himself. His eyes scanned the cold floor for his shield, thinking that maybe he could use it to disable Tony's suit somehow. Steve wanted to avoid causing Tony any more pain, and disabling the suit seemed like the quickest way for Bucky and him to escape without injuring Tony in any way. 

There. His shield was lying next to Bucky, with the painted red, white and blue star facing up. If he could just grab it and-

Tony reared up, grabbing Steve's arm and throwing him into the opposite wall. There was a loud crack and Steve collapsed, helpless, in a heap on the far side of the room. Something had broken. All the Captain could do was watch in horror as Tony approached Bucky and lifted him up by the neck. 

"I hope this hurts." Iron Man growled, and with a powerful snap using his metal gauntlets, broke Bucky's neck.

Steve didn't think it was possible to feel so much anguish and pain after losing his best friend for the second time. He crawled towards Bucky's limp body, ignoring the stabbing pain in his back and his legs. The friends neck was twisted at an odd angle. His eyes were open but glassy and unseeing. 

There was complete silence.

"You killed him." Steve whispered, not taking his eyes off Bucky. 

"So I did." Iron Man replied. He wasn't Tony anymore, just a machine. A heartless, cold machine.

Steve would have expected tears to fall out, but it was too much. He'd lost Bucky again. For the third time. The final time. There was no bringing him back.

"Ross'll be here in a few minutes." Iron Man said, walking out to the frostbitten courtyard. "I'd breathe in some fresh air, if I were you. I imagine it's going to be a long time before you see the sun again."

Steve was barely paying attention. Bucky, oh god, Bucky. How could he have been so useless? Why hadn't he stopped Tony? Why was he so pathetic?

Why had Erskine picked him? Why not someone better, or stronger, or faster? Why not someone who wasn't a failure?


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours before

Clint had been waiting all day for someone to come into his cell. Or was it all night? The guards never showed up, Ross never showed up. Wanda had been moved to an isolation ward, and Clint couldn’t sleep at all, because he was worried what Ross would do to someone like her. The only person he could see was Scott, but the cells were structured at odd angles, so there was no way to communicate. 

Clint stared down at his hands. There were cuts that were just beginning to heal, and spots of dried blood littered his prison uniform. If only you had been quicker, maybe he would be okay. 

The scene kept replaying itself over and over again in Clint’s head. The chase, Steve and Barnes getting away in the helicarrier, Rhodey and Tony following them, Vision’s beam, and then-

Sam. Vision had been distracted by Wanda, and had fired recklessly. Sam had seen the beam coming, and ducked. Unfortunately, Rhodey hadn’t been aware of it. The War Machine armor had gone down and so had Tony and Sam. 

Sam had just been trying to help. Why the hell had Tony fired that shot at his chest?

The answer was simple. Tony was a child. An overgrown, tantrum-throwing man child. Rhodey would never have been injured if he had just stopped and listened to Steve. Every bad thing that had happened in Tony’s life had been a direct consequence of his neglectful actions. 

There was a beep as the metal door slid open. Clint saw Scott lift his head up, and stare defiantly at the incomer. Clint felt a strong sense of respect for this man he’d only met a few hours ago. 

Tony. 

He entered, walking slowly towards Clints cell. There was a pause of silence before Tony remarked, “Well, you’ve gotten yourself into a mess.” 

“Indeed I have.” Clint spat back. 

“I imagine Laura would be disappointed.” Tony replied, his cold eyes boring into Clint’s face. 

How dare he. 

Clint slammed his hands against the glass, feeling a pinch of satisfaction as Tony flinched away. 

“You piece of-“ Clint began, only to gape his mouth open in horror as three guards dragged a limp body into the ring of cells.

It was Laura.

A rag had been stuffed in her mouth, her hands were clamped together with metal restraints and her face was stained with tears. Ross entered, along with a handful of new guards. Clint threw himself against the glass, hoping that it would break so that he could strangle Tony himself. He’d actually sold Clint’s family out to Ross. That lying, two-faced son of a-

“This could end well for you, Mr. Barton, or it could end very badly. Tell us where Rogers and Barnes went, or we’ll kill your wife and your children.” 

Cooper and Lila were shoved in, also in restraints and gags. Clint wanted to tear everyone in this room from limb to limb. 

Steve and Barnes would be in danger if he told Ross where they were. They’d never beat the Winter Soldiers, or Zemo, and all their efforts would go to waste. 

“Come on, now.” Ross sighed, and gestured to the guard holding Laura. He drew out a pistol, and held it to her head.

“Tony Stark,” Clint whispered, looking at Tony with the most intense, hate-filled stare he could muster, “I am going to kill you one day.”

“Have fun with that.” Tony had the audacity to smirk.

Ross cocked the gun. 

“Three, two-“

“Siberia.”

Scott spoke for the first time. His eyes were deep with pity, understanding and guilt, and for the first time, Clint remembered him saying something about having a daughter.

“They went to Siberia.” Scott said again. 

Ross and Tony looked at each other. 

“I’ll get there first, get Cap to let his guard down,” Iron Man said, already halfway to the door, “Follow me there.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, Stark.” Ross snarled, and they both left the containment area, dragging along Laura, Cooper and Lila. His daughter let out a muffled scream, trashing in the guards grip. Laura tried to speak, but before Clint saw what happened to them, the metal door slip closed. 

“I’m so sorry,” Scott said, watching as Clint collapsed down onto the hard, slab of a bed. “I should have-“

“Please don’t blame yourself.” Clint whispered, placing his face in his hands and trying to hold back tears. Tony had actually given the location of his secret family away to the government. Tony had actually given the location of his secret family away to the government.

“I’m glad you said it,” Clint continued, “Because I wouldn’t have been able to. Steve and Barnes are gonna have to deal with Stark themselves.” Goddammit, why had he brought Tony to his house? It was an emergency, yes, but he knew better than to trust a Stark. 

This is all your fault, Clint. Oh god oh god oh god.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was escorted into his own isolation cell by a few of the Raft guards. They kept a firm grip on his arms, like they expected him to run off, but escape was the farthest thing on his mind.

Bucky’s death kept playing over and over again in his head. The snapping of his neck, the blood pooling out from underneath his head, his lifeless, glassy eyes. 

Steve’s body had taken substantial damage in the fight. Ross had sent to a lab as soon as he was dropped off at the Raft, and the doctors had taken blood samples and monitored his body vitals. They’d checked his spine and his limbs, but there was no permanent damage. Just a few bruised bones and internal pain, the doctors had said. Of course, it still hurt, but none of their painkiller or sedatives worked on Steve. His metabolism was too fast.

The guards had led him into a cell. A straitjacket was tied tightly around his torso and they shoved him up against the wall, before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Bucky. 

His wall of emotions broke, and Steve slumped his head against the cold metal wall. He bit his lip to stop himself from letting out a built-up scream. It wasn’t fair. He’d already lost everyone and anyone he’d every cared for in life. His ma was gone, the Howling Commandos were gone, Peggy was gone, and now Bucky was gone. 

And it was all his fault. 

If he’d been quicker. If he’d been smarter. If he’d been better.

If he had just died as a child, like he was supposed to, none of this would have ever happened. 

There was nothing he could do except sit in his cell and try to stop himself from sobbing out loud. Clint, Wanda, Sam and Scott probably hated him. He’d endangered them all. He was a horrible, selfish person. 

As his guilt and anxiety and worry began to eat him up from the inside, Steve only had one thought. 

You deserve to be here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting stinky in here

Clint was still waiting.

It had been at least eight hours. That was enough time, surely, to track down Barnes and Steve? Or maybe, Clint thought with the tiniest bit of hope, Steve had been gone by the time they had gotten there. Maybe they’d taken down Zemo and the other Winter Soldiers quickly and ran off. They’d be planning a way to rescue Laura and Cooper and Lila and Nathaniel, and then Clint wouldn’t have to live with the horrible, sucking guilt that he’d put his family in danger just because he had the stupid idea that Tony could be trusted. 

The door slid open again. 

It was Ross. Laura wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Neither were Clint’s kids. The only thing Ross was holding was a round, circular object. He dropped it down with a clang, right in front of Clint’s cell.

Steve’s shield.

There was dried blood caked over it, and parts of the paint had been scraped off. Clint felt an overwhelming feeling of anger at Ross and Tony. They’d found Steve. They’d found Barnes. 

What was going to happen to the Avengers?


	5. Chapter 5

Wanda was stuck again.

Every few hours, the collar would jolt her out of her blood-soaked nightmares with a powerful electric shock, only to send her further into her gruesome past. 

Heartbeat increase? Shock. Movement? Shock. The audacity to speak or move? Shock. 

It was a living nightmare. But her life had always been a nightmare. Ever since that Stark Missile had landed in her home. Ever since her parents had been killed. Ever since Pietro had died.

Her life had been hell ever since Tony Stark had come into it. 

Wanda’s neck was probably going to be permanently damaged after this. She could feel the bruises forming in each area that the electricity struck. The straitjacket made her feel trapped and powerless. Even HYDRA had been more caring than this. At least they’d let her move and use her powers. They knew how dangerous she was, and that’s how far they let her operate. Here, Ross was just afraid of her. He knew she was uncontrollable. 

Stark had helped him. The glass surrounding her was partly reflective, so when she’d first been transported here, she’d tried to find a way out. Her reflection had stared back at her, and the collar on her neck had only two words on it:

Stark Industries.

He’d designed these weapons of torture. He’d make her feel trapped and powerless again, just like he had when she was a little girl. 

Sokovia was long gone. Ultron was long gone. Pietro and her parents were long gone.

But Stark was still alive. He had trapped Wanda and her friends here. 

How many times could he hurt he, and still face no consequences?

Even if he ended up murdering the rest of the Avengers, he would still do no jail time, still face no paybacks. 

He was a rich, white, American man. Of course, the public would still love him. Someone like Wanda? A poor, Sokovian girl with an accent? A monster. The Press would never let someone like her ever be seen as “the good guy.” No matter how good Wanda was, no matter how many people she helped, Tony Stark would always be better.

Even when he had murdered her parents. Even when he had lied to her about the Accords and kept her locked in her room. Even when he imprisoned her and kept her in a collar and a straitjacket. He would always be the good guy. Why?

Because people like Stark had power. 

Because the public ate up his lies. Because he looked trustworthy and friendly, therefore he was. Someone like Sam? Untrustworthy. Someone like Scott? Dangerous. Someone like Steve? Too free-spirited. 

Someone like Wanda? A monster.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve sat in his cell, barely moving for about three days. The lights in the prison flickered between orange and white and yellow. It was always random, never followed a pattern. He supposed it was meant to make the prisoners go insane, and it was succeeding. 

They hadn’t given him any food or water. His enhanced body needed nourishment, and Steve could feel himself growing weaker by each hour. 

This is probably what Bucky felt like.

Steve had given some thought to what it would like, being kept a prisoner by HYRDA for seventy years. Bucky had told him snippets of the slow torture on their flight to Siberia in the helicarrier 

Trapped. Contained. Stuck. 

Now Steve thought he knew at least a fraction of what Bucky and Wanda had felt. The constant state of fear and pain. The anxiety and worry.

And to have it done to him by the very government he had wanted to protect and keep safe? It made it even more insulting.

All he had tried to do was help. The Accords were plain evil, put in place by men like Ross, who wanted nothing except control. It was horrible watching people like Vision and Rhodey be swept up in all of Ross’s lies, lies of a better world, lies of freeing everyone from the “evil enhanced.” 

Ross had gotten what he wanted. With Steve in custody, there was no one left to help them.

Footsteps sounded outside his cell. Ross, along with four other guards, entered. The old man looked smugger than Steve had ever seen him. 

“I’d say it was good to see you, but I’d be lying.” Ross said, stepping up towards the cell. 

“The feeling is mutual.” Steve replied, his voice hoarse and tired. He had no desire to fight with Ross, he just wanted to find out what had happened to the rest of his team. How were Sam and Wanda being treated? Were Scott and Clint worried about their families?

“What have you done with my team?” He asked, deciding to be headstrong and ask.

“Oh, most of them are fine. Colonel Rhodes took quite a fall at the end of your little fight in Germany, though.”

Fear stabbed Steve’s heart. “What? Rhodey got hurt? How? Is he okay?”

Ross smirked. “You act like you’ve got any authority whatsoever here, Rogers.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Tell me.”

“You don’t get to give me orders.” And with that, the Secretary walked away. 

Steve watched him leave, feeling dejected. Dammit.

One of the guards stayed behind, however, looking nervous. Her eyes followed Ross until he left, and then turned back to Steve. 

“Colonel Rhodes broke his spine in the fall.” She said quickly, making sure that Ross didn’t walk back in, “Wilson was injured afterwards by Stark. That’s all I know.” 

With that, she left. 

No. First Bucky, now maybe Sam and Rhodey?

This day couldn’t get any worse. 

Almost crying again, Steve collapsed against the wall. His mind became a worn-out circle of worries and anxiety again. 

Please let the others be okay. He prayed, not sure exactly who he was praying to. If there really was a God up there, he’d sure turned his back on Steve.


	7. Chapter 7

The days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, the months turned into years. Steve stopped wishing for someone to come and save him. There was no point anyway. 

Every few days, Ross would drag him out of his cell and perform some horrific science experiment on him, trying to see how the serum worked. Steve had been burnt, beaten, cut open and frozen. He thought if he ever saw another person in a white coat, he might throw up. He was nothing more than an experiment that science had created. Now, science had decided to take him apart again. 

It hurt to talk, so Steve never did. His vocal cords had been damaged during one of the many surgeries, as well as his left leg being impaired beyond repair. Whenever the guards dragged him back to his cell, he walked with a pronounced limp. Not that they noticed. They weren’t here to take care of him. They were here to make sure he didn’t try anything funny. 

Steve had no idea where the other Avengers were. As long as they weren’t being treated like he was, it was okay. 

Two years passed in this hell. 

He lost the ability to eat, after a particular gruesome experiment, so they just shoved tubes with tasteful mush down his throat, making sure he had at least enough energy to not fall down dead on their operating table. 

He didn’t care. 

Another surgery gone wrong, and his left eye went dark. A long scar ran down it, curtesy of his imprisonment, and now he was half blind. 

He didn’t care. 

Every time they freed him from his metal restraints, his hands shook. His body didn’t feel real. The only thing real was the pain. The mind-numbing, suffocating pain. Loud noises made him flinch, as did sudden movements and the color white. Anything glinting or shiny looked like a scalpel, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near them. 

It wasn’t like the doctors gave him a chance to do anything except sit still as they ripped him apart. He was quiet. Didn’t put up a fight, or struggle. 

Everything stayed the same. 

Until everyone started turning into dust. 

He was sitting in his cell, trying to breathe as softly as he could to avoid hurting his broken ribs, when one of the two guards outside his cell suddenly just disappeared. 

Right out of the blue. Everything – her torso, limbs, head – just gone in a puff of dust. He stared at the empty space where a human being had once been. That wasn’t possible, was it?

The other guard was just as confused as he was. She stared at the specks of her fallen counterpart, before turning around to him. 

“What did you do?” She snarled, advancing on his cell with a shock baton in her hand. He frantically shook his head. Still looking terrified, the guard ran off, probably to get Ross.

But she never came back. Ross didn’t either. No one came.

He waited for hours. 

Until the door slid open and someone he never thought he’d seen again stepped in. 

Natasha.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer this time! Please be sure to read the tags if you don't want to see this!

Confusion and surprise must have been written across his face because Nat approached him slowly, like one would approach a feral dog.

“Steve?” She asked, like she was just as surprised to see him here as he was.

He didn’t reply. Just stared back at her.

“Oh god, oh god, you’ve been here the whole time? The Raft? I thought he’d moved you. He said he’d moved you. Oh no-.” She was muttering to herself, as she grabbed a keycard and unlocked the door to his cell. She stepped forward, planning on hoisting Steve up and getting that awful straitjacket off of him, but he automatically flinched away as soon as she got close.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Steve. I’m so sorry. We had no idea you were here. We would have come sooner.” She cursed in Russian and began to untie the straps around his torso. He tried to stand up, but, of course, his leg couldn’t support his weight, and he stumbled. Natasha reached to help him, but he jerked himself away again.

“Steve.” Her voice was soft, the kindest thing he’d heard in two and a half years.

Steve let her lead him out. He relied heavily on his right leg, and Natasha’s body. It was uncomfortable, being around another human and not expecting some sort of beating or punishment. She led him up and around a few rooms, until they bumped into someone else Steve didn’t think he would ever see again.

Rhodey.

He was walking fine, but his legs were incased in some sort of flexible metal. Rhodey looked absolutely horrified to see the state that Steve was in- his eye, his leg, his body.

“You were right.” Rhodey said quietly, “He did lie.”

“What about the others?” Natasha asked.

Rhodey shook his head. “Gone.”

Natasha cursed again. “Let’s get Steve back to the compound. Maybe Thor will be back.”

Steve had no desire to go back to the Avengers Compound, but he had no desire to stay here, either. He let them lead him back. Rhodey and Natasha spoke in hushed tones on the way there. He supposed they were talking about him, but it honestly didn’t matter. He caught the names, “Tony,” “Wanda,” “Ross,” and “Bruce.” Bruce? Bruce was still alive? Thank god. He couldn’t risk losing another friend.

It was good, however, that Rhodey was walking. Spinal injuries were no trip to the park.

They arrived back at the Avengers Compound within a few hours. Steve never wanted to set foot in this place again, but he supposed stayed on the plane wasn’t an option.

“Come on, Steve.” Natasha said gently, the pity in her eyes evident. Steve drew his gaze away from the lights of the Compound and let her help him down to the building.

They entered the compound, and Steve resisted the sudden urge to bolt back to the Raft. Natasha lead him up to his former room. It had been repainted, and it looked more like an office area than a room now. All of his personal things had been taken out.

“Steve, we’ll explain everything to you, I promise, but just let me talk to the others first, okay?” Natasha said. Steve nodded, not having anything else to say. She closed the door, and he took a seat on the carpeted floor.

There were vague voices yelling downstairs, and among them, Steve picked up Natasha, Rhodey, Bruce and Thor.

All of his former teammates, minus a few.

He slumped his head against the wall, trying to will himself to fall asleep. It didn’t work, so he just decided to stare off into nothingness, wishing that his body would just give up and stop working. Then he could finally be at peace.

There was more yelling coming from downstairs, and two new voices joined the chaos.

Natasha came back up after a while. Her eyes kept flickering between him and the open window, like she expected him to jump out. Steve didn’t remember ever seeing her like this. Her hair was ruffled, and her eyes had bags under them. She looked physically as well as emotionally exhausted.

She waved him over, but he did nothing.

“Steve, the others want to talk to you.” Natasha said gently.

Steve dropped the eye contact, and reluctantly got up. He steadied himself on the wall before slowly following Natasha out of the room.

Everyone’s eyes turned on him as he entered the room. Bruce, Thor, Rhodey, Pepper and- was that a raccoon? Another new, blonde women was standing, staring at a pop up of Fury’s face. She turned around, and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Steve.

“Oh, god.” Bruce whispered. The doctor approached Steve, but he automatically flinched away from the oncoming hand. Bruce looked even more concerned.

“What’s- what’s wrong with Steven?” Thor asked, looking a little worried. Steve hadn’t seen the god in over four years, and his voice soothed a little of the tension in his muscles.

“Ross.” Bruce said in a voice with so much bitterness and anger that Steve almost expected the Hulk to come out right there and then.

“Tony told us he’d transferred you to a different prison, out of Ross’s hands. That’s why we never came looking for you.” Natasha said quietly, “We were all fools to trust him.”

Steve’s heart stopped. They hadn’t abandoned him. They just didn’t know where he was. They still loved him.

It made him want to cry with happiness.

“Tony told us you were relocated,” Rhodey said, “As well as Wanda, Clint and Scott.”

Confusion must have been etched across Steve’s face, because Natasha asked. “What?”

Not wanting to speak, Steve used the basic sign language that he knew to convey the question: _What about Sam?_

Everyone froze.

No one moved.

“Steve-“ Rhodey said, “Sam’s dead.”

Everything crashed down. Bucky and Sam? No no no no no no.

_How?_ He signed frantically, his hands beginning to shake, his heartbeat beginning to increase.

“After the fight at the Airport,” Rhodey began, as Natasha walked towards him and stroked his hands soothingly. “Tony and I were chasing you and- you and Barnes down.” Steve flinched at the mention of his late friend. “Vision was aiming for Sam, but his beam accidently hit me instead. Tony and Sam followed me down, but they weren’t quick enough.” Rhodey paused. “When we landed on the ground, Sam tried to approach me. He _apologized._ And Tony shot him down with one of his repulsors.”

Steve felt the muscles in his neck tense. His hands curled into fists.

“Sam and I were both rushed to medical, but… the doctors were given strict orders to save my life first. Sam didn’t make it.”

Everything was quiet again.

Tony. Tony had killed his two best friends, and had faced no conseqeunces.

What the hell.

_Where is Stark?_ Steve signed angrily.

“We… don’t know,” Natasha answered, “He left the planet with Doctor Strange and Spider Man a few hours ago, but we don’t know where he is or if he’s coming back.”

“Good riddance, if you ask me.” The raccoon spoke, “Stark sounds like a real asswipe.”

_I’m going upstairs._ Steve signed, before racing as fast as he could out of the room, so he didn’t have to deal with crying in front of the other Avengers.

He staggered back to former room, beginning to hyperventilate.

_Both of them were gone. And Wanda and Scott and Clint oh no oh no oh no oh no._

He collapsed on the floor of the room, his hands over his head, biting his lip to stop the sobs from escaping his mouth.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It’s what his ma had told him, decades ago, whenever he was having bad asthma attacks. In and out, in and out. _Calm yourself down._

He fell asleep hours later, still hugging himself, still breathing heavily, still thinking about Sam and Bucky. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last bit!

It took four days for Stark to find his way back to Earth.

The spaceship landed in the grassy area in front of the Compound, and a blue women helped Iron Man out of it.

No one ran forward to catch him. No one greeted him.

Which seemed to royally piss the billionaire off.

“Rhodes? Pep?” Tony said, looking a little starved, “I’m back!”

“We can see that.” Rhodey said, without any hint of love or caring in his voice.

Tony looked even more confused. “Look, bud, sorry about not calling ya, but Thanos needed to be stopped-“

“Well you didn’t stop him.” Natasha pointed out flatly, crossing her arms and staring at the man blankly. “People died, Tony.”

“And? That’s not my fault!” Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

“If you had _called us,_ ” Rhodey said, “We could have put together a team. Instead, Thor drops down, half dead, in the middle of the Compound, blabbering something about Thanos, and then, minutes later, everyone starts turning to dust. If you hadn’t decided to play the hero, millions of people would still be alive.”

“Really, Rhodes, that hurt,” Tony said, faking being offended. “What, this is all my fault? Why didn’t you go grab some other people to fight? At least I tried.”

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. “We did. Turns out all the people we needed- the other Avengers- were at the Raft. Where you specifically told us they weren’t.”

Tony’s face reddened. “Well, uh, you see,-“ He stuttered, looking from Pepper to Natasha to Bruce. “Bruce! You’re alive! Thank,-“

“Tony.” Bruce said in a stern voice. A tint of green was rising in his neck. “Why did you lie to them?”

Tony stumbled, trying to find the right words. “I-I didn’t lie, I mean, wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”

Thor stepped forward, and a few stray storm clouds gathered in the sky above the Compound. “Don’t you dare say that, Man of Iron. A warrior never betrays his friends.”

“Look- I- he betrayed me first.” Tony stuttered. Rhodey looked confused, and Tony took that moment to pounce. “He lied to me! It was Barnes that killed my parents! Rogers never told me that.”

Natasha looked like someone had punched her in the face. “ _That’s_ why you killed Barnes? Because he was brainwashed into killing your mom and dad twenty years ago? Tony, that information had been out for years. It’s not Steve’s fault that you never looked for it.”

Tony’s face turned red, but he kept on arguing, insisting that Cap deserved it, that he was the victim.

Bruce sighed, placing his head in his hands. “Look, Tony. Just… come in and we’ll talk to Steve. Then we need to find out how to bring everyone back.”

Tony looked angry but realized that everyone here could overpower him if they wanted to.

The Avengers walked back inside the Compound. Natasha ran upstairs to grab Steve, while the rest of them sat down. Tony rolled his eyes and took a seat in one of the chairs.

Natasha appeared a few moments later but something was wrong. Steve wasn’t with her. She looked worried, and she held out a note.

“He… he left.” She said quietly. The note was short, and the handwriting was small and neat. There was only one word written on the page.

_Sorry._

“Why?”

Natasha could only guess. Tony must have scared him. He must have thought someone else was going to die because of him. She couldn’t blame him. Trauma could do a lot to the mind.

She placed the note down on the table, leaving it there.

Thanos had won. 


End file.
